Tomorrowland
by Schizoprenic-Squirrel
Summary: "Destinies cannot be that inescapable."


Remember: Wise men never want to know their destinies.

**I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Because I'm simply not awesome enough.**

**"Tomorrowland"**

There is never a waiting room, although, in this day and age, he thinks that just maybe there should be. It would be amusing. Instead, he simply knocks on the door before walking in, knowing that she is expecting him. He leaves his shoes by the door and walks down the short hallway, noting the creature comforts- books, reproductions of art works, CD's. Candles.

"You've mellowed in your old age."

He's in the main room of the apartment now, with its low furniture and mats, lined with bookshelves and lit by lanterns. There is a window across the room, a large, picturesque one that is open to the evening air and the city view.

The Oracle herself was dressed in an elaborate kimono, stretched out on a low-lying couch, a book in her hand. "Memoirs of a Geisha" was printed on the cover. Beside her, on the table, was a tea set, properly laid out and waiting. She looked up from her book and smiled at him. Her eyes were, quite literally, blank.

"And you've gotten younger. You don't quite look like yourself."

He shrugged, moving to sit down.

"Who is he," She asked.

"I thought Oracles knew everything."

"Just about," She put her book down. "It's his favorite tea." She gestured to the table. "I figured he would appreciate it. It's a... condolence, I guess."

"I'll be sure to let him know."

He didn't touch it.

"So," She set the book down on the table, pulling long ink-black hair behind her. It made wavy little pools on the floor. "Are you to tell me why you're here or shall I tell you?"

"I want to defeat the pharaoh."

"And obtain all of the millennium items. Yes?"

"Am I really that predictable?"

"The players are still the same, even if the stage is different," She looked out the window. "Ours in an endless cycle from old to new, old to new, with the wheel always turning."

He didn't reply.

"Ra will always slay Apep, the boat shall always sail across the heavens, the tides shall always move, and you will always be the Pharaoh's greatest adversary. Our fates are pre-ordained, and we are helpless to stop ourselves as we hurtle towards our ultimate ends. Old to new, always. The same ending, always. The wheel turns and we repeat ourselves, always. Ours is such a tiring play. Ours is such a repetitive story. I have spoken to you a million times, a million different ways, but always the same fate. Always the same destinies. Old to new. For an eternity."

"Long-winded soliloquies aren't like you," He picked up a cup of tea and took a sip. "It's Earl Grey."

"It's always Earl Grey. I told you, didn't I? Unless you would rather something else."

"I would rather we get on to business. If you have told me a million times you can tell me again-"

"And a million times over," She smiled.

"How do I defeat the Pharaoh."

He set the tea cup down with more force than was neciscarry, making it slosh in the cup and over the sides. She turned and observed him.

"Obtain the seven millennium items."

"And who has them?"

"Who else but the seven priests?"

"And who would they be now?"

"Who else but themselves?"

"Answer me plainly or not at all- who are the seven who hold the millennium items?"

"You have already obtained two. You will find two more- find, but not obtain. Not immediately. Two others will be revealed to you."

"That's only six."

"You know where the other one is- surely you know you will not obtain all of them until the very end."

She reached for a compartment under the table, pulling out a long pipe and a laquered box, opening it to reveal shredded tobacco and a set of matches. She stuffed the pipe full of tobacco and lit it, replacing the box and smiling as he made a face.

"You smoke."

"It's one good thing about this century."

"What else do I need to defeat the pharaoh?"

She paused a moment, exhailing a long ribbon of smoke. It hung low in the air and smelled of spices and oranges.

"His name."

"And where may I find this name?"

"Where you find all names. On walls, of course."

"In a place a continent away."

"Then I suppose you will just have to wait," She looked over at him. "You know, for a former king of thieves, you aren't connecting the dots very well." Another puff of smoke. "And you don't seem to be very adept at waiting. I though you were supposed to be crafty. Intelligent."

"I've waited for a millennium."

"Then you can surely wait for a few months more."

It was silent again. She continued to smoke, stretched out on her couch, facing the window. He wondered if she could really see.

"And now," She blew out another ribbon of smoke. "You wish to know how it ends."

"It won't be like the last time, I know that." He took another sip of the tea. It had gone cold and tasted biter-sweet.

"Of course it will. Haven't I told you?" Another puff. "Old and new."

"I'll make sure it won't,"He stood up to leave, stopping at just inside the hallway when she spoke.

"You can try, but in the end," She looked up at him. "The thief Bakura will always die. Zorc Necrophades will always fall to the Pharaoh. The High Priest Seto will become a king, and not because you make him so. Old and new-"

He had walked to the front of the apartment, slipping on his shoes and hurried out, frowning.

"Destinies cannot be that inescapable."


End file.
